


On the Line

by callmeonetrack



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, F/M, Infidelity, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-18 01:18:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9358181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeonetrack/pseuds/callmeonetrack
Summary: Kara and Lee negotiate the limits of their affair.





	

He holds her for the first time again after Kat’s death in a shadowy alcove off the memorial wall. Her head falls to his shoulder and his arms wrap around her back. Kara never makes a sound, but his jacket is damp through to his tanks when she finally lifts her head.

The first kiss comes without thought or preamble. His thumbs rub at her temples; his lips chase the silvery streaks down her cheeks. Lee is murmuring words of comfort against her skin and then his mouth is covering hers. They’re trembling and breathless, and each time they break apart, Kara’s whispering, a stream of apologies flooding from her mouth that he can barely follow. He’s not sure if they’re meant for Kat or the Gods or maybe even him, but he’s also not sure they matter either way anymore, not sure anything at all matters except _this._

When they find the algae planet, he doesn’t mean to keep scheduling Kara for the donut runs. Really. He’s a good CAG and he can keep his professional life and his personal life separate. But his hand keeps writing her name in the slot anyway. Lee’s smart enough—or calculating, though he doesn’t like to think of it that way—not to use Starbuck every time, but somehow it works out that she’s planetside at least twice a week. He tries hard not to think of the rest of the days as a countdown. He’s getting quite good at lying to himself.

But when he makes his excuses to Dee (and thankfully she doesn’t insist on coming after that first terribly awkward check-in anyway) and bounds up the wing of the raptor and sees Kara smiling at him, Lee forgets. He forgets duty and responsibility, ethics and honor. It’s all gone with one brush of her fingers on his neck, one puff of her breath on his cheek, one touch of her tongue to his lips.

The first few donut runs all they do is make out like hormonal teenagers. It’s hungry and fervent and they can barely stop for breathing. They don’t speak about their spouses or about how they got here or really about anything at all. They just kiss and kiss, mouths red and lips swollen by the time he stumbles out of the raptor far later than he should have and heads back to the command HQ.

The second week, he’s crazy with the need to touch her and his hands slip into her suit, cupping her soft curves and squeezing. His mouth blazes a trail from her lips down her neck, stopping on that little beauty mark low on the right side so he can drag his tongue over it again and again. Lee’s never been into rough sex, but with Kara, he’s primal. He wants to suck her skin till it bruises, sink his teeth in till he breaks the surface. He desperately wants to mark her, and it’s juvenile and territorial and that’s not him either. But with Kara…well, he’s finding out that he’s a lot of things he never thought he was.

By the third week, he’s stripping her flight suit down to her waist almost before she’s out of the pilot’s seat. Lee’s hands slide to the small of her back and freeze, because Kara’s tanks have ridden up and a slick band of skin is exposed. The slippery warmth brushing against his fingers is like wildfire spreading through him and he has to plunge his hands under her tanks, stroking up her spine, ghosting over the smoothness there with feathery caresses until Kara’s panting in his ear. “Gods, Lee, yes, need you now,” And then her hands are moving down to his waistband fumbling with the buttons. It only takes until she gets the second one open for Lee to come to his senses and realize that if he doesn’t stop her and they do this now, there’s no turning back.

He grabs her wrist. “Wait, Kara! No, we… can’t.”

Kara looks up, surprised, her cheeks flushed and eyes dilated. “What?”

“If we do this…It’s crossing a line.”

She frowns, brow creasing, and he loosens his grip. That turns out to be a mistake though, because Kara slips her hand into his gaping fly and cups his obvious arousal. “Where, Lee?” Her fingers close around his erection and the heel of her palm grinds into him and slowly drags upward, pressing where he’s stiff and straight against his belly. “Nnngh,” the moan slips out, undignified and loud in his ears, and it takes a second before he can form an actual word. “Wh—what? Where what?”

Kara’s face is resolute, all big eyes and slightly pouting mouth. “Where’s the line?” She pumps her hand around him, the cloth of his briefs bunching as she fists him slowly downward, her thumb digging in at the base of his cock. “Is this it?” “I don’t—” he pauses, the words he was already unsure of flying out of his brain with another squeeze of her hand. Gods, frak, if she doesn’t stop that, he’s going to come in his shorts. “Kara—”

Lee sighs with relief when her hand releases his aching shaft, but then she speaks again. “Over but not…” she pauses, and slides a finger under the flap in his shorts and then she’s brushing the tip up the length of him, the caress feather-light and barely there, but the feeling so overwhelming it’s paralyzing, “…under the clothes? Is that the line, Lee?”

A strangled breath escapes him and sounds so much like a sob he’s embarrassed. But Kara slides her hands out of his pants finally. Lee sags a little, trying to form a coherent thought but then she’s touching him again, firm hands pushing on his chest, backing him up till his knees hit the chair bolted behind him and he drops down heavily.

She bends over him, her tongue dipping into the hollow at the base of his throat and gliding straight up to his chin, making his skin tingle. “Or is this the line?” Her voice is husky and her fingers find his nipples, squeezing and twisting a little, making shivers shoot down his spine.

Kara swings a leg over him and perches on his knees, her hands moving, grasping his tanks and pushing them up his chest as she lowers her mouth to his breastbone. The kisses are wet and warm and she’s sliding back, trailing lower and lower, her tongue painting down the line of hair beneath his navel till she stops at his waistband. Kara’s hands are tight on his hips and she raises her head, staring him in the eye, challenging him. “Above the waist, but not below? Is that where you want to draw it?”

He just stares at her, breathing hard. He knows she’s baiting him; she wants a fight. But he has none left.  His blood is rushing and his whole body strains for wanting her. Sensing her advantage, Kara lowers her head again, and her tongue swipes over him, the damp heat seeping through his briefs as she licks a straight flat stripe up his cock to his belly. The faintest trace of a smirk curves her lips as she raises up, her eyes pinning him again. “Do I need to ask permission to give you a blow job? Or is that allowed? Lee?”

Kara’s point is taken. Lee can insist on all the invisible boundaries he wants, but they’re already cheating.

When he gets back to HQ—back to his _wife_ —the guilt will settle in his gut, burn hot every time he looks at Dee, but right now he’s weak and she’s Kara. His hand trembles a bit as he reaches for her, but he doesn’t falter, guiding her head back down to his lap. She takes him in her mouth, and Lee closes his eyes, his skull thunking back against the console.

It’s not the first time, but maybe it’ll be the last.  Maybe next time, Lee thinks, he’ll be stronger.

He’s getting quite good at lying to himself.


End file.
